


Open Road and Nowhere to Go

by jayyxx



Category: American Gods (TV), American Gods - Neil Gaiman
Genre: Developing Relationship, Food Poisoning, Friends With Benefits, Gentle Sex, M/M, Road Trips, Rough Sex, bottom!sweeney, soft shadow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 03:49:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19737715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayyxx/pseuds/jayyxx
Summary: Admittedly, the first time they fuck is kind of a disaster, but that’s not overly surprising.





	Open Road and Nowhere to Go

**Author's Note:**

> ok so idk how america works so we’re pretending this road trip will take approx 1000 days so they have time to develop a relationship.. okay? great. glad we’re on the same page. 
> 
> I picked a random goddess and decided that Nani is the goodness of the sun, her name coming from Arinna.

Admittedly, the first time they fuck is kind of a disaster, but that’s not overly surprising. 

Shadow was left with skinned knees and claw marks, purple bruises on his neck and a five star that stayed on his pec ‘til morning. Taking in the damage in the mirror the next days, he briefly wondered if this is what fucking guys is always like. 

That’s another reason the whole thing was a bit of a mess: Shadow had never fucked a man before. He had had plenty of opportunity, lots of pretty young things looking for protection in prison, and they knew what it would cost them, but Shadow had his girl waiting for him, so he’d smile and decline all the boys offers. Even if they were tempting. 

Sweeney, on the other hand, makes it seem as though he’s been around this block a couple times. Shadow admitted he had no idea what he was doing, and while he was still pondering the science of it all, Sweeney had already done whatever he needed to do, his hand flying behind his legs, and was already complaining, telling him to “get the fuck over here.” Poor Shadow still had wide eyes, wondering how the fuck his dick fit in there, while Sweeney already had his head thrown back and a rhythm going. 

And yeah, Shadow ended up with some battle scars, and maybe he was a little embarrassed of them at first, with Wednesday poking fun at him and all. But as soon as Sweeney slid into the backseat with a pillow he stole from the motel, eyes tired but already with cigarette in his mouth. As soon as both him and Wednesday were knocked out cold with their foreheads pressed into the car windows. As soon as he realized that nothing had changed, he felt a little better about it all. 

But things had changed. Even just a little bit. 

Sweeney watched him with a different look in his eyes. Instead of one of distaste, he now looked at him with curiosity. Like everything Shadow did was interesting and worth noting. Shadow didn’t mind him watching; he even puffed out his chest and stood a little taller when the other man was around. He didn’t bother to dissect why. 

And yeah, they messed around a couple more times (yes, _a couple_ ; Sweeney was — in fact— as mad as they say, and even more insatiable). Over the course of the next couple days, still on the road _(where the fuck are they even going?)_ there wasn’t much else to do. So, when Sweeney grabbed him by the jacket and tugged, Shadow went. And it wasn’t always _the full thing,_ especially since it usually happened in dirty truck stop bathrooms. And luckily, Shadow usually came out slightly less battered by it, each time. Less bite marks, bruises, scratches. _God_ did the man fuck like he fought. 

It always felt quick and dirty. Which it was. Sweeney was never there in the morning or any romantic shit like that. He barely stayed past when he got his fill. Not that Shadow was left dissatisfied, but, well, actually, he wasn’t exactly sure _how_ to he felt about it.

But on the next night they get a motel, and Sweeney comes knocking at his door, he finds himself not caring about whether or not _this_ is a good coping mechanism to get over his cheating dead wife, and instead gives in to the thrill of it all. 

\- 

They’d been driving for a long time. A really, really long time. 

Wednesday was an awful passenger, who never shut up, always picked the music, and never offered to drive. When he wasn’t blabbering on about this, that, or the next thing, he was dead asleep, making it feel as though it was just Shadow and Sweeney, stuck in a hot car with nothing to look at but each other through the rear view mirror. 

Today, though, even though they were all exhausted, they sat comfortably together, listening to whatever station Wednesday had picked, and feeling generally fine about this stretch of road in front of them. Well, at least Shadow and Wednesday felt fine.

“Pull over.” Sweeney groans from the backseat in his nest of stolen pillows that Shadow had only had the pleasure of sleeping on once during this two-day stretch of road. 

“Wha—?”

“Pull the _fuck_ over, Shadow.” He demands, making it very clear how serious _whatever was happening_ actually was. 

So Shadow did. Fast, and slammed the car into park. The two men in the front seat watched as Sweeney shook the car door and tumbled out into the grass on his hands and knees. 

Wednesday shook his head as he watched the man crawl a few feet away from the car. “What in the…” And then watched Sweeney emptied his stomach into the highway’s ditch, right between his hands. 

“Oh, God…” Shadow grimaced even as he rocked back to unbuckle his seat belt and get out to help him. He rounded the car and came to his knees beside Sweeney, cringing as he watched him heave and throw up again. “Oh, Jeez,” he complained, because Sweeney was too busy to complain for himself. Shadow reached under him and pulled his jacket back towards the mans stomach, in hopes it won’t get dirty. He figures this is the equivalent to holding back a girl’s hair. 

“You boys done?” Wednesday calls from the car, like a dick. Sweeney groans at the sound of his voice. Not helping. 

“No, man, can you bring me some napkins? And a water bottle?” Shadow requests as Sweeney chucks up the last of his lunch into the grass, coughing and sputtering a little, one arm moving to loop around his belly. 

As Wednesday, begrudgingly, brings him what he requested, Shadow is distracted by Sweeney’s arm reaching to hold his stomach, to bring himself some kind of self-comfort, and coming in contact with his own arm, holding back the jacket. Sweeney groans again, only now noticing that Shadow had been only inches away from touching him outside of a sexual context and throws Shadows arm away from him, now moving to cover his stomach with both arms.   
Shadow scowls at him for a moment, before Wednesday gets his attention by all but throwing the bottle and roll of paper towel at him from a safe distance away. 

The stomach’s moment of glory seems to have passed, and Sweeney finally relaxes a bit, sitting back on his heels. Shadow rips him couple paper towels, and passes them over. 

The man wipes down his face and hands while Shadow contemplates what to do next. He’s slightly confused as to whether he read that moment wrong, but to him, it felt like, no matter the fact that he was clearly in need of a little bit of comfort, Sweeney had no interest in Shadow touching him. Which he would respect without thought, if he hadn’t fucked the guys brains out the night before. 

But as for right now, he’s got a theory to test, so as the poor guy rinses out his mouth, enjoying being able to breathe again, Shadow puts a hand on his shoulder. “You good, man?”

Sweeney rocks away from the touch slightly, his weak body rolling with the harshness of his breaths , but he doesn’t throw him off. He nods, looking distant. He rinses his mouth once more and crushes the water bottle. 

“C’mon, sit back,” Shadow suggests, hand pulling at him to sit on his ass with his feet in front of him. Sweeney rests his head between his knees and breathes. 

“My fuckin’ coin.” He rasps, shaking his head. 

Shadow tips his head. “More like your fucking lunch,” he replies, thinking back to the shitty restaurant they stopped at on their way through town. 

Sweeney huffs a laugh. “Yeah, just me’ fuckin’ luck.”

“Nah,” Shadow starts. “We’ve been going for a long time. You’re just… Overtired and need a real meal.” Slowly, he slides his hands to run down Sweeney’s back in a slow, comforting movement. 

Sweeney bristles like he never realized the hand had been on his shoulder in the first place for, like, a full five minutes. “Get y’er fuckin’ hands off me.” 

Looks like he was right. “What?” Shadow asks, still slightly shocked and hoping he’ll get an answer. 

“You look ten pounds lighter!” Wednesday shouts, half-hanging out the car window and totally ruining the moment. “Let’s get a move on or we’ll have to sleep in his thing another night!” 

Sweeney growls at him. Shadow watches.

“Hey, you drive for a bit, yeah? Sitting in the front will help. Roll the window down, distract yourself a bit…”

“I’ll pro’lly fuckin’ crash the thing, ‘ight? Just… Get in and leave me ‘lone.” Sweeney jabs, getting himself to his feet. 

Shadow purses his lip. Yep. Okay. He can do that. 

Even if he spends the rest of the drive with his eyes in the rear view, he leaves him alone. And that’s something.

= 

Wednesday pressed on. It’s their third day without stopping.

Sweeney looks genuinely miserable for the rest of the night, refusing dinner and even the pack of crackers Shadow bought him from the gas station. He simply curls up in his pillows and stares pitifully out the slightly cracked back window. 

When night falls, Wednesday, who had slept all day, took a shift driving so Shadow could rest, which he did, for several hours. 

When he woke, it was nearly light out. The sky was tinged pink and the world was quiet with morning softness. And yet still, in the backseat, Sweeney shivered with the force of his food poisoning, and sweat lightly as his body worked through it. Shadow glanced at him with empathy. “I’m sorry, man,” he whispered genuinely, yet Sweeney made no indication that he heard him through the fog. 

Shadow reached over and tapped Wednesday. “We gotta stop tonight.” 

Wednesday takes a deep breath in, and says, on his exhale, “I’ve got a place, just a couple more hours,” as if he wanted to keep it a surprise. 

Shadow glances back at the man squished in the back seat. “Okay, but let’s stop and get some food, walk around a bit,” he nearly begs, turning back to Wednesday.

After a moment of fake consideration, Wednesday agrees, and focuses hard on the road. 

The next time Shadow catches Sweeney’s eye, he’s got a soft smile. Like he’s saying thanks without saying it. Thankful that Shadow read his mind, and got something out of Wednesday. 

And the next time he looks back, pulling into the next town, Sweeney is even starting to look a little better; excited to get out of the car. He even eats a couple spoonfuls of soup at lunch (breakfast? _brunch?_ ) and looses a bit of his nervous energy while wandering around the town. 

Shadow catches him staring in at a shop on the corner. “Maybe your luck has changed?” He says with a smile, seeing the shop is in fact one selling Irish chocolate. Sweeney huffs, sinking into his hands, braced on his hips. Shadow takes his chance, leaning in to loop his arm through his, curving a hand on the man’s waist. “Should we get some chocolate?”

Sweeney most definitely tenses at the content, but he turns, and looks down at Shadow, then glances around the empty town to see that precisely _no one_ is paying them any mind, and huffs a smile at him. It’s a sad one, like he feels guilty as he slides the hand from his hip to push away Shadow’s touch. 

And, okay, Shadow gets it. The guy doesn’t want to be touched. That means Shadow’s gonna keep his hands to himself for now on. He’s respectful. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and backs up. 

“Not here,” Sweeney mumbles, so quiet he almost misses it. Then, he turns and walks right passed Shadow, giving him exactly _no time_ to respond. Instead, Shadow watches him walk, his expression pinched as he takes in what he just said. 

Shadow realizes, with a bit of thought, that the man must be self-conscious of PDA. Which, yeah, okay. But it’s even more than that... Sweeney doesn’t like even being touched by Shadow where other people may see. Jesus, that guys got some issues, and Shadow isn’t exactly sure how to deal with them.

= 

It’s around super time when they roll into the driveway of a home, nestled within a patch of trees only a few miles off the highway. Shadow breathes in the smell of _house_ eagerly. 

“Ah! Forni! Is that you I see!?” 

The three enter the home to find an small, elderly woman, who is very excited to see them. “Forni!” She calls Wednesday again, “get in get in!” She gestures at them. She has a heavy accent that Shadow can’t place. She is warm, and happy, and welcomes them with open arms. Literally. 

She hugs Wednesday as soon as she gets close enough, and Shadow is happy to say Wednesday keeps both hands high on her back. She must be respectable. 

As soon as she sees Sweeney, she coos like a mother: “Ah, my baby! My sweet boy, come, come,” she calls before trailing off into another language that Shadow can’t understand but that Sweeney softens under. He drops his shoulders and goes to wrap her in his hold. Her face lands almost right in his belly. 

She pulls back and looks at him with worry. “You sick? Oh no...”

“No, Nani, I’m better now,” he assures. 

Nani looks offended that he ever _was_ sick. 

“Just a 24-hour thing. I swear.” He says, stepping back. 

“You not eating good, my baby. I feed you today, you eat here.” She turns and shouts to where Wednesday is already raiding the liquor cabinet, “you eat here!” 

Wednesday shouts his affirmative, but Shadow somehow thinks he knew she’d offer. 

Finally, Nani sees him from behind the wall of a man that is Sweeney, and ducks over to meet him. “Oh my, such handsome men you bring me...!” She grins as she draws him to her. “You are?”

He chuckles, blushing. “Shadow.”

“Aha! Yes you are. I am Nani. Welcome, you are home now.” 

As she comes close to kiss his forehead gently, Shadow sees how bright her eyes are. Her skin is darker than his, and her eyes like gold that stand out among a dark canvas. He feels instantly comforted by her kindness. 

She hugs him and pushes him towards the kitchen, where he supposes he’ll be for the rest of the night. 

“You need sleep? Forni, you eat here today, sleep here today. Yes?” 

Wednesday nods. The right answer, apparently, as Nani grins like the sun. Shadow swears her eyes flicker with flames. 

“Ah! Oh no,” Nani gasps, “I have not enough sleep for you.” 

Shadow looks at her, confused, but Sweeney takes over: “It’s okay, Nani, Shadow and I‘ll take the floor.” 

Nani looks absolutely appalled. “You will not! I have couch!”

Sweeney comes to cup her face in his hands. “I’m too big for yer couch,” he says, sweetly, ensuring her not to worry. 

Nani laughs loudly and smacks him on the chest. “That you are! Big boy!” 

That gets Shadow laughing. The world brightens a little bit.

= 

Nani feeds them a feast, ensures they all bathe, and kisses each forehead before sending them off to sleep. 

Wednesday snakes into the guest bedroom, and Shadow is sure he can hear him talking to himself. 

Sweeney raids the closet and brings out pillows and blankets for them, throwing a pack at Shadow and keeping one for himself.

When Shadow realizes that this will be the first time they wake up together, and they will be on the bare floor with a knit quilt covering them at someone’s Grandma’s house, he laughs almost pitifully at himself. How does he even get into these situations? 

Sweeney, relaxed from his shower and warm under his blanket is already half asleep, his eyes gently closed. He looks soft, and young, and Shadow watches him for a moment before stepping over him, throwing his pillow down beside his, and sliding up close. 

He ensures he doesn’t touch. He respects that boundary that Sweeney has put up. In fact, for the rest of the night, and on into the day, he keeps his hands tightly to himself.

= 

It’s only when they stop at a motel in the middle of ass-fuck-pun-intended nowhere, that Shadow gets to touch.

“Woah, woah, woah, hey,” Shadow grins, pushing Sweeney, who props an eyebrow at him, away gently. “We’re alone. Does that mean I can touch you?”

Sweeney rolls his eyes with huge intent. “Yes, dickhead, get over here...” He demands, reaching up to pull him. 

“No, no, I mean...” Shadow keeps his hands on the other man’s broad chest, keeping the distance. “...touch you how _I_ wanna touch you?” 

Interested, Sweeney’s tongue snakes between his lips. “And how’s that?”

Shadow grins, but it’s genuine, as he leans down to kiss Sweeney’s neck. “Gently,” he whispers against the warm skin. 

Batting him away lightly, Sweeney chuckles: “fuck off.” 

Shadow moans, not going anywhere, even Sweeney he tries to knock him off. “No ones ever touched you gently, have they?” 

Shadow pushes up to observe him, his flushed cheeks, his ears red, his chest panting. Sweeney peers at him through his eyelashes. 

“All this time, no one ever taught you that fucking don’t have to be a fight?” 

Sweeney rolls his eyes. “We’re not makin’ a fuckin’ baby, Shadow.” 

“Oh, trust me, I know.” Shadow retorts, his hands rubbing over the other’s pecs. Sweeney watches him with a devilish glare. 

Shadow leans down and kisses his chest, softly, gently, passionately. He licks down over his nipple, kisses him there, licks down his belly, kisses him there. When he glances up, Sweeney is panting like he’s preparing for a fight. Shadow rolls his eyes. 

“Fucking relax, man,” he chuckles as his hands come down to lift Sweeney’s legs. “I ain’t gonna fight you.”

Sweeney sinks into the mattress a little more, his breaths coming hot. “That’s whatchu’ said the first time I met yeh.”

Trailing his fingers up Sweeney’s thighs, he scoots back on the bed to make room for himself. He tugs off the man’s boxers, and leaves him exposed to the chill of the room. 

Shadow doesn’t even realize he’s staring until Sweeney starts to twitch. “Like whatchu’ see?” He whispers, but it’s self-conscious. A joke to fill the space. 

Shadow senses his awkwardness, but he _does_ like what he sees. He takes a moment to enjoy the sheer size of this man, his tanned, freckled, scarred skin, his ridiculously red patch of hair below his navel. He _really_ likes.

He’s never done, what he wants to do here, before, and he’s learned that Sweeney is quite talented at it. He doesn’t want to disappoint, but also thinks it’s gotta be a pretty easy procedure. He figures the _penis_ is easier to find than the _clitoris_ and he’s had no trouble with the latter. He stares Sweeney in the eye until they lock, and Shadow ensues those eyes stay on him while he leans down to press a kiss to each corner of his groin. When he glances up, Sweeney looks like he’s been shot. 

Shadow rests his head on the man’s thigh and grins sweetly; “hey.” 

Sweeney rolls his eyes and lets his head fall back against the pillows. His arm comes to cover his eyes, “Christ.” 

Shadow takes a moment to prepare a game-plan, then promptly throws it right out the window and jumps in head first. Literally. 

He finds he enjoys the fullness on his tongue. He settles into an easy motion, a rocking rhythm, a smooth glide, to the point where his jaw already hurts. It doesn’t taste like much of anything, and he can’t fit even half of it in his mouth, but when he glances up, Sweeney’s panting, eyes pinched under his arm. He’ll remember to pat himself on the back for this moment. 

He licks a stripe up the side of him while he drags his fingers down. Shadow has never done this part either; Sweeney is always just _ready,_ like maybe it’s magic. Wouldn’t be the first time magic had surprised him around here. 

He hums lightly at the tip and then pulls back to kiss him like an idiot, peppering him with lips all over his lower half, but as soon as he tries to reach around, Sweeney stops him. 

“C’mon. I’m ready. Let’s go.” He grumbles, looking slightly irritated at the pace of this whole thing. 

Shadow gives him a look, but then slides up to hoist Sweeney’s legs around his hips, and press his hard cock against the other’s. “What?” He drawls. “You’re not gonna let me have any fun?”

He leans down to kiss him. Kissing isn’t something they usually do, but it’s something Shadow swoons over, so he might ask for a few more kisses than usual tonight. 

Sweeney responses openly, whimpering against his mouth. Shadow knows this whole thing makes him feel vulnerable, and he understands. He tries his best to dip their toes before diving in. 

Sweeney kisses him back softly, so distracted and foggy he doesn’t feel that Shadow is awkwardly reaching around for the lube on the nightstand and oiling up his fingers, but he notices when said fingers touch the back of his thigh. 

“Is this okay?” Shadow whispers against his mouth. Sweeney nods almost immediately, even if he feels slightly unsure. 

He, of course, is already ready for Shadow and needs little prep, but that doesn’t stop Shadow from pressing his long fingers into him while he kisses him slowly. Sweeney gasps against his mouth and Shadow fucking _loves_ the way he feels around his fingers. It almost feels _more intimate_ to touch him this way, like he really gets to feel him. Maybe that’s why Sweeney always skips this part. Shadow feels special. 

He tries scissoring his fingers and is rewarded with a warm sound against his mouth. “Good?” He asks, his other hand gripping his waist tight. Sweeney responds with a whine. “Good, good. You’re doing so good,” Shadow reminds him, and Sweeney flushes even deeper than before. 

“Fuck,” Sweeney breathes and tucks his head into Shadows neck. 

Sweeney’s legs get tighter around his sides, his arms clinging onto his shoulders, his face pressed out into his neck, crying out. 

And when Shadow finally sinks in, Sweeney falls away from his chest, back into the pillows with a smile. His body loose and face relaxed, jaw hung open. He twists his head from side to side, eyes pinched shut and fingers digging and legs winding and Shadow thinks he may have converted him to a new religion.

= 

“I have something for you,” Shadow says as he slinks in from the bathroom, still warm from his shower. Sweeney raises his eyebrow from his spot on the bed, smoke lazily dripping from his mouth. 

Shadow pats his hands against his sweat pants, trying not to look like he’s wiping his sweaty hands. He grabs the coin from the dresser and holds it up. 

Sweeney huffs a laugh. “W’is it?” 

Shadow creeps foreword and sits next to him in the middle of the bed, cross legged and nervous. Sweeney seems to sense his vulnerability and, with curiosity, stubs out his cigarette and gives him his full attention. It heats Shadow like a hug. 

Shadow holds the coin between his forefinger and thumb, openly ready for the other man to take it. “You gave me the sun, and I gave it away, before knowing what it meant.”

Sweeney’s brow only furrows farther. 

“And you’ve been feeling down on your luck and I know it’s cuz’ I lost your sun. So...” 

Shadow holds out the silver coin Zorya plucked right out of the sky. “A friend gave me this. It’s my moon.” 

Sweeney’s tongue twists in his mouth. It’s pressed against his cheek when he finally chuckles, and speaks. “This is all very romantic...”

“It’s not suppose to be romantic. It’s a debt. An eye for an eye, a coin for a coin.” 

Suddenly, Sweeney reaches out and grabs Shadow’s hand holding the coin, and uses it to yank him foreword. He gets close, right up into his face, and whispers: “I don’t want yer fuckin’ coin.” 

Shadow is shocked, and is sure the emotion plays in his face, but is even _more_ shocked when Sweeney uses his grip on his hand to pull him even closer still, and kiss him on the mouth. 

And it’s quite possibly the sweetest, most intimate kiss he’s had since before his wedding day. 

He sighs into it, reaching up with his free hand to stroke the side of the other man’s cheek, to brush through that thick bread. And Sweeney, still a little bit weary of touch, pulls back to speak to him. 

“My luck ‘ain’t sour cuz you took my coin, ‘ight? My luck ‘ain’t been sour since I met you.” 

Shadow warms. “Well, there was that one time where—“

“Za!” Sweeney stops, putting a hand over Shadow’s mouth. “It don’t count.” 

Shadow laughs, grinning like an idiot under his hand. 

“So no, I don’t want yer’ coin.” Sweeney admits, the unspoken _as long as I have you_ heard by both of them. Sweeney plucks the coin from Shadows fingers and presses it hard against the man’s chest. Shadow takes the hint and covers it up. Then, taking it one step further, and tossing it to the floor behind them, so he can kiss the lucky/luckless bastard for as long as he pleases, with no coin keeping them together, or drawing them apart.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This has been sleeping in my WIP box for a while so I decided it's time to send him out. Let me know what you think!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr.](http://www.ghostycas.tumblr.com)


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